Dream Weaver
by Earth Oddity
Summary: Post DH. Epilogue Ignorant. Draco Malfoy is studying to become an Unspeakable, but as his workload increases he must find extra time to study for his approaching exams. He goes to drastic measures to rid himself of his need to sleep. Craziness ensues HPDM


Dream Weaver

Chapter One

It was a cold April morning in Wiltshire. It wasn't always cold in Wiltshire, but this morning was particularly cold. In the vast and beautiful Malfoy Manor the coldness was magnified. It was still quite early. The sun had only just begun to reveal itself over the horizon, when Draco Malfoy left his warm bed.

As he set a foot on the marble floor a chill ran through him. He reached over to his night stand to retrieve his wand, muttered a spell, and instantly the room became comfortably warm. Draco performed this spell almost every night before going to sleep, but it would never last until the morning, the Manor just seemed to extinguish the warmth. Draco tested the floor again. Upon finding it pleasantly toasty he got up from his bed and made his way towards his desk in the corner, which was overflowing with books and loose rolls of parchment. He settled himself in his chair and opened up the topmost book. It was a book about spell casting. Draco Malfoy was in his third year of Incantations and Experimentation at St Axleknead's Magic University.

Draco didn't really have any special interest in Incantations; he simply took the course because it was compulsory if one wanted to work in the Department of Mysteries. Draco was going to become an Unspeakable.

Draco had always wanted to work at the Ministry of Magic, like his father, but Draco didn't find most of the positions very appealing. He wasn't interested in Politics, and he wasn't too keen on gaining a position of power, ever since the war Draco was content with blending into the woodwork. He would never settle for a casual desk job in some unheard department. He wanted a job with glamour and intrigue. And what sort Ministry job was glamorous, while allowing Draco relative anonymity, and would also incite intrigue in many wizards? Being an Unspeakable.

Draco knew very little about what being an Unspeakable entailed. It was a highly secret position that, what Draco could make of it, involved developing and researching some very dangerous and earth changing stuff. Many people claimed that wildly illegal things get studied, but nobody, except an Unspeakable, knew for sure. When he became an Unspeakable he would have to undergo every project he did with absolute secrecy.

But in order for Draco to become an Unspeakable, he had to complete three years of University, and then two years of specialised training at the Ministry of Magic, and even then there was no guarantee of a job. But Draco would get one. Draco would work hard to get one. He would study endlessly and get top marks. He wouldn't just wait around and hope the Ministry would suddenly offer him a senior position, with no schooling and no training, just because he was famous. Like what had happened with Harry Potter.

Harry had been working at the Ministry almost instantly after he bested Voldemort. After the war the Ministry sort of collapsed and, apparently, Harry Potter was vital to its rebuilding. Harry hadn't even completed his seventh year at Hogwarts, he'd never seen a day of training, and he was immediately made an Auror. Now, three years on, Harry was a Senior Auror in charge of Training and Recruitment. So not only did Draco have to suffer that injustice and blatant favouritism, but he had to suffer it almost everyday, because the Aurors-In-Training studied in the classroom right next to his. Everyday Draco would walk through the hall and have to look at Harry Potter's smarmy, arrogant face and his stupid Auror badge, and half the time he didn't have the decency to wear robes, he would show up to work wearing muggle clothes. To Draco this showed complete lack of respect for one's position. But no one else saw it that way. They'd all just crawl at Harry's feet, kissing his dirty muggle sneakers. And, every time he and Harry made eye contact, Harry would give these slight nods and smiles, and Draco would just glare back. Draco hated having to look at Harry. But he wouldn't have to look at him for much longer. After Draco completed this year (at the top of his class) he would be moved to the Department of Mysteries, and begin his Specialised Training. He wouldn't have to look at that glorified git's face ever again. But, until that happened, Draco would have to see Harry. He would have to go to class, he would have to study, and he would have to do spectacularly well in his exams.

Draco scratched his forehead with his quill, and turned a page in his book. He scribbled down a note on some parchment about the importance of phrasing and annunciating when spell casting. In four hours class would be starting.

St Axleknead's Magic University wasn't nearly as impressive as Hogwarts. While Hogwart's was majestic, with misleading passageways and dark dungeons, Axleknead's was as basic as it was possible to be. You could guarantee that 'this' door would lead to 'that' room. Axleknead's was built shortly after Voldemort first disappeared. It was in London, aboveground. It was disguised the same way the Leaky Cauldron was. If you didn't know it was there for certain, you would walk straight by. It was enormous, but very symmetrical. Each classroom was the same size, and the classroom criss-crossed over three floors.

Draco's class was on the ground floor. All students were encouraged to arrive to class early, to get a better seat, and therefore, a more rewarding learning experience. This usually resulted in extreme congestion outside the classrooms at five minutes to nine. And obviously, at this time, Harry Potter would breeze in. Everyone in the hall would stare at him in awe. All the other teachers spent hours before class getting prepared for there lesson. But not Harry. The great Harry Potter didn't need lesson plans; he just needed his stupid scar... that's all teaching requires.

Draco looked around at his transfixed classmates, their gawking faces looking as though their eyes had become super-glued to Harry. Draco scoffed. You would think that after months of Harry Potter's daily presence they might have become a bit desensitised to him, but apparently not. That scoff of Draco's seemed to attract Harry's attention. Draco turned to him, with a blazing glare. Harry stared directly at him, with a blank expression as he walked through the hall. He maintained eye contact even as he passed Draco. Harry turned his head for a moment, to continue his stare, and then he returned his gaze to the front of him. He hurried passed his awaiting students, opened the classroom door, and strode in. His class then rushed in, as if they were seagulls who had just been thrown a chip.

Draco slumped back against the wall, and like his classmates, waited for his teacher to arrive. Their teacher was a man named Agamemnon Snodgrass. He preferred his students to call him Agamemnon, rather than Professor Snodgrass. Draco would too if he had such a ridiculous name as that. Although, he supposed the name Draco Malfoy wasn't exactly considered not ridiculous. Agamemnon was an Ex-Unspeakable. He wasn't allowed to speak about his experience, but occasionally he would let some things slip. He had been retired for several years before being offered a teaching position. Draco quite liked him. He was ancient, but he was a good teacher. He could even make incantations seem bearable. Draco suspected he was one of Agamemnon's favourite students, as his work often got special commendations from the man. Agamemnon also got very frustrated when bangs and crashes from the classroom next door interrupted his class. Draco could only imagine what manner of teacher Harry was, but from the constant banging that emanated from his class, Draco believed Harry was probably very hands on. Draco felt slight sympathy for his students. They probably knew nothing of theory, and simply cast the first spell that popped into their heads. Draco could only assume that Harry Potter was the worst teacher on the face of the earth.

He was probably the worst Auror as well. Most Aurors who had been on the field for three years would have some sort of battle wounds to show for it, some scar tissue, a missing appendage perhaps, but Harry was completely intact. He did have some light scarring along his neck, as though something with sharp claws had taken a swing at him, but you couldn't even notice it unless you were looking very closely. Draco had hoped that after a few years of being an Auror Harry would emerge looking like Mad Eye's twin, but, as always, fate seemed to be on Harry's side.

Draco felt everyone around him begin to re-enervate and head towards the classroom door. Draco assumed Agamemnon must have arrived. He picked up his bag and made his way through the crowd. As he neared the door he glanced towards the neighbouring classroom. A girl was running feverishly to door, cursing her lateness. She obviously hoping there was a little bit of a chip left.


End file.
